


Gotta hunt the hunt

by CravenWyvern



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Murder, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Violence, headcanons galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: A few of these are based off of my gameplay experience, since this game is...fun.What I learned as I played: Megs and Neas are mean, but I'm more likely to catch a Meg, and not many people seem to realize I can track their heartbeats pretty easily with the Frenzy.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Gotta hunt the hunt

**Author's Note:**

> A few of these are based off of my gameplay experience, since this game is...fun.
> 
> ~~What I learned as I played: Megs and Neas are mean, but I'm more likely to catch a Meg, and not many people seem to realize I can track their heartbeats pretty easily with the Frenzy.~~

Out from the brain fog of darkness and choked cold came the creeping tendrils of something that had started to feel a bit peckish.

It crawled, slithered, skittered its way in, nestled and shifted, made itself comfortable.

And then started to howl.

_"Alright, alright! Goddamn it, fine you stupid fuck, I'll get going!"_

Up from the fog and cold and lethargic drags of sleeplessness, feet dragging and sodden grasses and weeds trembling as the much darker, much heavier Fog rolled in, came a'calling, and off limped the Legion into the Entities greedy gaping maws.

The other three turned in their not quite sleep, a few hushed words, a good luck or two, before the chill of the coming trial cooled the noise and muted the very air itself, thick Fog and cloying furnace Entity as guide.

A lack of attention was a sentence to cold shoulder, cold eyes, a literal willful ignoring that brought frozen airs that bit deep through the bones and slugged the mind as mush. Once the eye was upon them it heated to a frenzy, a fever of spicy heat and pressured atmosphere and judgemental gaze during a trial.

Neither option was favorable, but one was to take the burden off the others either way and if Frank had to do it then he would.

Not as if he could just ask the others for a break every now and again, naw. He's got this.

The Legion smugly thought this to himself, right before near tripping from a trees maliciously raised root. The mud and stringy grass strewn dirt was starting to give way, shape under the thick fog that clung in whisps about his legs and tugged at his sleeves, and now the light grew blue, lightened up as asphalt and cement took its place. Houses formed, broke through the Fog, houses and fences and long abandoned, half remembered cars, the stink of piled high trash and old mildew ridden boxes left outside to exposure, and he swayed to a halt as the grumbling gurgle of the Entity vibrated through the very air itself, announced its presence.

The board solidified, straightened out, and with a slow, sighed upon roll of his shoulder the Legion straightened himself out as well.

Might as well get this over with as quickly as possible, even as the air grew harder to breath, even as his palms started to sweat and the fog of his breath steamed his mask hot and uncomfortable. Weights fell upon his skull, slipped right through age old scarred cracks and then dug deep through the grey meat matter of his brain, burning iron hot Entity touch, and with a last roll of his neck, cricking the cracks out of him and limbering up, Frank slid his hand to the knife strapped to his side and raised it up and ready, familiar solidity in hand and focal point narrowing in and around that blazing spiced heat.

The Entity grumbled in satisfaction, and the trial and its land trembled in a last warning.

Then the flags were down, the horn sounded, and off went the Killer down the streets, hunting for the next sacrifice.

***

_"Here?"_

Throat choked shut and brain pounding in tune with the throbbing heartbeats beating to his own skulls pulse and down went the Legion, steps deep to the houses cellar, basement.

The heartbeat, pulse flowing unbroken blood, hot and warm and living breathing next-to-be-eaten by the great beyond, it ruminated below the streets and it called to him as it always had. The knife in his hand was already streaked with blood, chilling now and sticky thick to his fingers and soaked bandages, and he held it tight as he raced down the stairs.

Or more like tripped on the second step, flailed his arms to right himself and near went down one knee before balancing, knife scrawling a scratch through the peeling paint as he stumbled his way to stable ground.

The heartbeat still pulsed, still sang itself to him, and with his feet underneath him the Legion picked up the pace and ran, rounded the corner expecting the next slide of flesh to sink himself against-

And found a long dead generator instead.

With that the heartbeat faded, sucked deep into silence that instantly put his knees weak and the air dark and scattered and he stumbled, head lolling as blood frenzy strength fled and shivering sweaty weakness took over.

A nearby locker broke his fall, blood stained palm weakly keeping him up as he near slid down its frame, and as the Legion shuddered and gasped and half heaved through a too tightly swollen shut throat there was no more heartbeat.

Something else had taken its place.

Muffled breathing, quiet hushes gasped between sweaty palms, the flicker through the grating of the red and metal bars of the hiding place, and Frank leaned against it a few moments more to get his breath back, feverish and trembling as the frenzy wore off.

It was almost addicting, hitting the high and racing like a bloodhound down the trail of scent and heart and low pumping blood sounds, but once it seeped from his muscles and bone, left instead a flabby weakness that stole even his breath, his mind and thoughts away into a fog that wasn't quite Fog but something far more sinister.

He used to have a better handle on that all, really. Got him through the highs and lows of life, the best and the worst.

Deep in the Fog though it was as if the Entity had eaten it all up, hungered for more. Draining him to the bare bones at this point.

Still, leaning his head to the cold metal and feeling nothing as his mask streaked crimson to the peeling red paint, it wasn't as if the one hiding in here was taking off just yet.

_"You stupid motherfucker."_

Wasting the chance, wasting a chase, and with that the Legion sucked in a whisper thin gasp of heavy air, straightened up, and swung the metal doors open in one swaying fixed motion.

The man inside gasped as if it was still a surprise, whites of his eyes blown wide and hands up as the knife just barely brushed by his face, dug into the wood and scraped the plastic and just narrowly avoided damaging the hatchets hidden inside.

They never took those in hand either. Would make this a whole lot more fun if Frank had to dodge badly thrown axes too, actually.

Dragging the knife close to warm skin and hissing in a hated gasp of air that wheezed thin, one hand fisting collar cuff and coat and dragging the man out in one trembling smooth motion, fear scent and piss and hot iron blood and yet even hotter iron Entity excitement and the Killer bent his knees and heaved upwards as he swung the man atop his shoulder.

The weight wiggling took a moment, shock and fear of coming pain and hanging as the Legion started his stumbling way back up the steps, no hooks down here, no Entity hands down here, not even a singular eyeless crow. Had to go upstairs, outside for all that.

He would have rather put the knife through that soft fleshy throat, blood that would warm up his frostbitten grave dirt caked fingers, if he could he'd bring the whole withering body back into the Fog, dig hands in to steaming flesh and get warm again-

That hadn't been the plan from the beginning, never was, never will be.

The others wouldn't want to do that, would they?

Naw, no, Frank thought as he "accidently" stumbled on his way up the stairs and bashed the man's head against the paint peeling walls, earning a half shrieked yelp and a flail of hands grasping to a bloody matted head. Getting your hands dirty was one thing, but they weren't hungry like the Entity.

Not like some of the others, that flighty mud frog bitch or that huge fucker with the axe and hatchets.

Crows were scrawny rotten things, but vultures sure had a good bit of flesh in them still. The others of the Legion were still not up for cannibalism just yet.

Wasn't a good time to pick and choose, but it was a wait out, contest between them and Entity. If no one wanted to back out yet then Frank would never be the first.

Had to lead them, yeah. Had to make those hard decisions, yep.

The man started to wiggle again, throw the Legion off balance and rocking his steps side to side, made him grunt and huff in whistled thin air as the Entity kept closing its Fog about his throat, tried to keep him in a choke hold.

The weakness had faded back, adrenaline blood high sweeping back close, lapping the edges of his bruised brain matter, and the instant this one was sacrificed onto a butcher hook the Entity promised with pleasure drain strings of aura that he'd be in another bad trip of fever and heartbeats.

The Killer shoved on, steps stumbling from the front door of the house into clean trimmed grass and nipping hedges, red lined hook a'calling.

Better hurry it up. Ol' Entity was getting a bit pinchy now.

***

Down slides of rusted metal, loud banging footsteps as the Legion rushed headlong in a dead sprint, sticky knife in his sweaty grip and arm absolutely coated in lukewarm blood, painted up the arm of his jacket and splattered across his fogging mask, dipping the skin of his exposed throat and making every strained breath iron and tangy, tingling to his brain with every step closer.

_"Get back here, bitch!"_

The chase spun him around more sheet metal, cubed cars and rust and abandoned old things lacking tires and doors and splattered in even more far older blood, a heady cold chill and that dark gritty steel taste to the air reminiscent to the bell ringers silent presence. The footsteps ahead of him pattered, scrambled in a mad sprint as he closed in behind them, flashes of solid pink and waving ginger braids and gasping breathes; he's been chasing her for awhile now, giving her a run for her money, if she even had any.

He's never been much of a mugger before, always had Joey and the other two to back him up.

Didn't need his friends right now though.

The lady tried to juke him as she rounded a pile of tires, near almost left his focal vision as she twisted left and then leapt right at the last moment.

His knife clipped her shoulder, bright pinpricks of hot blood that spiked the fever in his brain and made the heartbeat of the Entities realms quicken fast, blood singing in his veins from their sedentary frozen pathways as the blade dragged and ripped through fabric, near tripped him up in his mad rushing fervor. Her scream wasn't as satisfying, grit teeth and hissed with tight roads of frustration, anger, _spite_ , and the Legions breath exploded out in a gagging gasp as he skidded in the slick rusted mud after her, not even a moment's hesitance now that blood was thicker in the air, new blood.

Her friends life coated him, painted him bright and black and sickly hued, and it painted the molding of his brain the Entity had proudly caged and the tightness of his swollen throat grew even more so, gasping each breath as his lungs locked and he flung himself forward in one final stretch, knife thrust forward in a stabbing swung arc-

For a split second, he saw her foot curve, legs picking in a twist and the flash of her face, eyes wide, determined, face snarled at him in defiance that sent the Entity singing even more vigorously before her arms lashed out and there was the sound of wood scraping against metal-

And then a bang, stars in the brain and vision flickered bright black grey, sudden gaping emptiness as strength disappeared with not even a whispered poof-

-weakness and pins and needles and the numbed vibration of hitting the ground, hard, splattered veined hot pain, blood, blood that was his flickering fast thought before that sucked away and just like that the Legion was out for the count.

It took a few moments, minutes, to latch back onto to swirling dizzy reality.

His mask was hot and cloying with his breath, panting shallow as his vision spun in a cloud of hazy unknown, the smell of mud and metal and then iron blood, heat in his mouth that coated his teeth and tongue. His chest billowed as he sucked in another breath, jaw aching with how tight he clenched it before letting go, and for another few seconds Frank lay in the mud.

"Is...is he dead?"

A thin voice, nervous, unsettled yet distracted as shuffling footsteps circled back around.

"If he is then someone must have brought a shit ton of luck with them this round."

That came around a bit droller, apathetic and yet metal slid against metal and feet scrambled down from a hiding place, curiosity pricking thick in the air.

"Hope he is dead, fucker got me good in the shoulder."

That came tromping back, a hopping vault as wood creaked and footsteps landed close to his face, slicking through mud and the rubbing raw feeling of all eyes landing to his shoulders.

"Oh, are you alright? I have a kit, I can patch you up real quick-"

"I got it Claudette. Bit of bandaging should keep me together for the rest of this trial anyhow."

More footsteps, the quieter voice fading at the dismissal, and now there was a lot of sound, movement all around him.

Frank dizzily narrowed his eyes, saw nothing but mud and dark pulsing fog in his vision, and every breath was sweeping his thoughts back but the pins and needles still stayed, weakness sucking his limbs tight to the ground, gravity heavy.

There was hesitance for a moment, then shifting, footsteps adjusting weight, and then something was poking him in the shoulder.

Not a hand, no, and Frank couldn't for the life of him figure out what was actually going on.

"...He looks pretty damn dead. How hard did you throw the pallet down?"

"Not that hard I don't think. Was aiming to stun him, but I guess this is for the better, huh?"

"Hey, uh, maybe we shouldn't be poking a killer with a stick everyone? We should be getting a generator done, um, opening the exit? That sounds like a good idea, right?"

"Shut the fuck up Dwight."

The thing poking him rose up, jabbed at his neck, bunched up against his hoodie and tugged at his jacket, and Frank slowly, surely got his hands to curl into fists.

"We finally down one of these fuckers and you want to run away immediately. Typical."

"I'm trying to think ahead here-"

"Go think ahead somewhere else then." The bored voice rounded out loud, slow steps coming over, and there was a nudge to his ribs, brief and curious, bored. "You sure he's dead and not faking, Meg?"

"No, not really."

The thing poking him shifted, dragged against his clothing, and then suddenly rose up and-

-jabbed at his head.

That burst a starling swirl of pain, seizing up at the flash of unknown and sweeping away whatever iron burn that had started chipping its way back in and Frank heaved a gasp, control coming back unpleasantly as he curled up and clutched his head.

"Fffuckin' stop…!"

The words fell slick and slurred from his mouth, a rough sore feeling that dragged and made him choke on blood that flooded suddenly up his throat. As he gagged, coughed and tried to curl up at the stabbing sensation of needles through his skull and jittering pain surging about his bones the ground vibrated about him and rose with surprised yelps.

"I told you, I told you all-"

"You told us nothing, Dwight, shut your fucking mouth-"

"We need to go, Meg, he's going to get up-"

"Right behind you, just a sec-"

The pounding footsteps were fleeing from him, Frank gasping as he finally curled his fingers into the mud and heaved up a glob of blood, splattering the inside of his mask and drooling out against his chin. Getting to his knees took a dizzy moment, brain sliding around and a fog cottening up his ears, sinuses as he finally cleared his airways enough to suck in a deep gasp of cold metal air.

Which immediately was interrupted, a sudden whipping force to his gut that made him cry out and crumble back to the mud, gagging from the air knocked out of his lungs.

"You deserved that and worse, fucker. Hope you bleed out."

Then footsteps racing away, and Frank was left there gagging in the mud, still too confused and empty headed.

It took a moment, a whimper as cold air entered back and hushed through his chest unhindered, but his mask was sodden with mud and blood and spit and tears now, attempting to bite his tongue to quiet himself as his hands curled into fists, and Frank had no idea what was fucking going on but it was really, really, _really_ starting to fuck him up.

Heaving another breath, head pounding something awful and dizzy, nauseous as hell, he took another few minutes just waiting, just taking breathes, he had to wait, just a moment now.

There was no other sound, nothing else around him, not even a hint, and it was equal measure relief and dejection. Where the hell was Joey? Susie? Julie?

Shit, did they cross the wrong sort of people? They hadn't outright killed him, but the thought they'd hurt any of the others-

A surge of bitter strength, another flood of hot blood in his mouth before Frank staggered himself to his feet, vision going twisted and raw as he wobbled and knees locked before going faintly weak.

Getting up didn't shed any light on the situation. There was metal, mud, a haze and old rusty cars, and it sure as hell didn't look even a hint familiar.

A hand to his head coated his fingers in hot liquid, blood soaking through his hoodie as he pulled his palm back only to stare at bright crimson, and Frank shook his head, flung more blood as it dribbled out from under his mask, coated his jacket, which-

Was already pretty damn soaked, sticky and cold to his skin, dark stained, and he had no idea if this was his blood or someone else's.

God, he hoped this wasn't from the others. The very thought made him even more nauseous, a sickly feeling in his gut as his vision flashed red and grey, white flashes and black spots as he tried to turn in place, see if he could catch sight of anyone.

A flash of rushing blue, pink and then darker, in the distance flashing lights and rising smoke, but it was too blurry, too far away, and even rising his head sent a shuddering wave of weakness and Frank couldn't stop himself from crumbling back down to the mud once more.

Breathing was a bit difficult, took a hit of strain as he lay there gasping, bloody and muddy and absolutely sick to his stomach, but his arms shook and his head pulsed and his entire body shuddered as he gagged up another spitting mouthful of blood, this time almost burning his throat with a bitter taste he could almost recognize as familiar. It gunked up his mask, splattered to the soaked slimy dirt, yet all he could do was weakly twitch and gag and try to not panic.

The attempt wasn't going so well.

His heart pounded in his chest painfully, an odd feeling that crossed through his confused mind before mushing back into an ungodly mess of chaotic fears, he couldn't remember how he got here or where the others were but all he knew was that he was hurt bad, _real_ bad, and his friends weren't here to help him, they weren't here and they could be in the same state and _Frank didn't know what was going on_ -

A sudden bell, a gong and buzzing beeping that rang out through the air, followed by fast footsteps, voices calling out all around him.

"That's it everyone, that's it! We can go now-"

"Stop acting like you did shit, Dwight, you only helped with the last generators cause you knew the Killer's out for the count-"

"Can we just get out of here? I'm done having to slog through fog and mud, thanks. Seen enough broken shit cars to last me a lifetime, probably more."

"Good idea Nea! I'll throw the switch if everyone else keeps watch-"

"Nothing around to get you Dwight, stop pretending you're all that-"

As the voices came and went, tromping steps through the mud and clanging against metal, there wasn't much Frank could do but blindly reach out, flail in a gasping breath at the shock of pins and needles and stabbing pulse hot pain down the back of his skull through the spine-

-but he had to try, do _something_ besides die here alone.

His hand connected to something, something soft and fabric and moving and his throat scratched up as the words slurred out of him in a babble, his vision turning as rusty as the cars around him and his ears ringing with a blown empty void.

"Ww'ait…p..'lease…"

There was a yelp, a tug and stumble from his grip, and Franks hands clutched helplessly at the empty air as he gasped, a sodden hopelessness and confused mush that welled in his chest, rose up his throat as a thin whimper.

Along with another mouthful of blood, leaking this time as his strength failed him to sink to the mud, but another pair of footsteps came over, helped the fallen back to their feet.

"Didn't think the fucker was still kicking, sorry Claudette."

"It-it's alright Meg, just surprised me a bit."

Frank panted, chest heaving for air as his fingers clawed in the mud, and he couldn't see a damn thing but he could hear them, two women as one dusted herself off, that prickle of a shiver, knowing one was staring dead at him, but there wasn't anything else left in his brain that could figure this all out.

"...You really got him good."

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Good riddance."

Footsteps, walking away, and a surge of panic and raw fear and _god he was going to die and he didn't know what happened to the others-_

"Pp-please…."

One pair stopped, halted as his whisper voice wheezed thin and turned to shallow gasps, pain crusted deep through the numbness now, his vision a rusty mush of colors and silhouettes through the mask's eyes.

"You coming?"

"....Yeah. Give me a moment, Meg, I'll be right behind you."

"Hey, alright, whatever. Make sure you get to the exit before the last gong, cause we won't wait."

"I'll be there, go on ahead."

One side of steps walking away, the other hesitating before wandering back over.

Frank lay there, gasping and clutching deep to the mud, as if that would keep him anchored, as if that would have any of the answers his confusion needed, but after a moment there was the sound of someone sliding down to their knees in front of him.

"H...hey. You, uh, can talk?"

Even in his current state Frank had a surge of anger, of _course he can fucking speak asshole_ , but wrangling the words for all that would take too long, too much time he didn't have.

And he didn't have time to play some shitty guessing game with his assailants either.

"Yy-you…" He reached, spread his fingers and then clawed them through the mud as he hit empty air, gagging on his own words but forcing them out as he squinted through his disgusting mask, out to what looked to be a face of some sort, swirling dark with haze and his own pain. "...'ou know wh...where 'ey a….are…?"

"...Where who are?"

_Fuckin' bitch, you know who I'm talking about._

"Wh, where…" A last spaz of energy, withering painfully in the mud as his hands finally came into contact and clutched at shirt sleeves, weakly tugging back and yet earning nothing but a startled sharp breath and hiss of near panic response. "W-where are my...my ff..'riends…?"

Gargling at the end of his sentence, a sudden shudder up his spine and coughing, gasping vomited blood from his mouth, down and out from under his mask, and his weak grip slid away as he choked. A pinch in the back of his brain, chasing the burning hot irons of almost familiar aura touch, and Frank could only gag and cough up more blood, suffocating under it all.

If he was crying, tears mixing with the blood, he wasn't even lucid enough to notice.

"Um, I, uh, I don't know? I didn't even know you had friends…?"

She sounded almost as confused as him, frozen up as he sobbed into the mud, gagging on blood and pain and just how hard it was to take each and every breath.

Fuck, he had no idea this was what dying would be like. Always thought he'd have more control on deciding where he'd be off'ed, and how.

At least the lady had given him a reassuring answer; these masks were kind of hard to forget, so none of the others were out here with him.

A soul crushing feeling, realizing whatever fucked thing he ended up doing earlier was ending like this, him all alone, but that meant the others should be safer. If Joey was smart, which he was, then he'd not follow in Frank's footsteps, lead the others to this fucked up car yard to do whatever Frank had been doing, not that he could remember it anymore.

His gagging sobs devolved into choked laughter, whimpered giggles escaping him in huffs, and fuck was it good to know the others weren't in danger cause of him.

The giddiness didn't leave even as his shallow breaths started getting even more strained, head in the mud and stretched out with blood leaking out of his skull and mouth, but there was a bit more shifting that reminded him that he still wasn't completely alone, not really.

"C…'an you…." Heaving another breath, twitching as he tried to tilt his head, try to catch sight of that blurry melted mess of colors his eyes were trying to translate to him, Frank gagged on another filmy layer of wet hot iron and pushed through the numbing pain a final time. "Cc-can….'ell them if, if you….see 'em...that...that Ff-frank s-says..sorry…?"

There was something creeping up on the edges of his senses, just out of reach and yet getting closer, prickly and hot and seeking, repulsive and yet tempting beyond belief, a warming presence to the cold chill that the darkness was promising, and Frank could barely be called lucid at this point, this heated cloud that had suddenly puffed its eye, its attention upon him.

"I...um." A shuddery nervous breath, unsure, unsettled, but then a sudden resolve, and it cut through the creeping fog, no, Fog, cut right through and burrowed deep and hidden away. "Okay. If I see them, I'll carry over your message."

She couldn't see it but behind his mask he cracked a bloody smile, tugged at his lips and muscles in a way that almost felt as if he's not done it in a very, very long time, strength leaving him to relax in the mud and exhale low.

And then the woman gasped, scrambled back through the mud as something hot and blistering iron burst up from the ground around the Killer, thorns streaking downwards from up elsewhere, and Frank couldn't even twitch as long thick limbs suddenly bundled him up, cradled close in a burning blaze of dark tasting blood. He laid in the Entities grasp limply, a faint lingering name attaching on as it cooed at him, rose him up high.

And then tensed, spines and jabbing claws coiling like a tight spring.

The Legion only got halfway through the next breath before the Entity stabbed him straight through, pulled to its hungry maws and snapping his neck as a small mercy.

Survivors escaped untraumatized, unharmed this time.

Next trial will end better.

***

Snow crunching underfoot, a blood rush to the head and the wrinkles of slow gnawed brain matter and his focal focus was a narrow tunnel forward, a chase that had him struggle to breath through the pinhole of his choking throat, coils of Fog and encompassing Entity pressure bearing down upon the constructed lands.

Flashes, wooden buildings and falling apart sheds, snow hills and barren trees and pines and strung wires and-

-and the woman in front of him, purple flashes and dark beanie and sprinting steps, not even a seconds glance back to him as he dogged her heels, and he was close, so close, could almost _taste it_.

Blood from a previous sacrifice was still splattered about the front of his jacket, jagged Entity limbs that had skewered and dug and eaten alive, right in front of him, splashed him with the backwash of iron heat, but now it was cold, stained deep and sticky.

Just ahead of him was new blood, a pumping fast heart and that sweet hope that they all had, no matter the circumstances they _all_ had a bit, a hint of flavor to keep the trials at the right level, and all he had to do, as the Legion threw himself forward and pushed himself, racing closer and closer, knife raising up and up and up-

And then his feet fit stone, concrete, and there was a freeze as his heart leapt to his throat and his frenzy didn't crash but _he_ sure did.

Skidding to a halt, waving for balance as the world rocked and the lack of thick snow seemed so glaringly wrong, out of whack, and his vision focused straight down to the border, that clear cut distinction.

The line between Mount Ormond and the Entities realms. The line between past and present, forever future, ever future. Back behind him, in the lodge, was the old spray painted logo of the Legion.

It had struck something in his chest when he had seen it, going stock still from his stalking and letting the survivors ruminate on their chance at lucky relief, before a generator popped with the gong of the bell and Frank was off again, hurrying along to the next bloody sacrifice.

They had commissioned some guy for that art, long ago. Giggled and laughed and thought it was the shit, at least until they had all tromped into the abandoned old building and let the artist show off his work.

It was near awe striking, seeing something so permanent, so _them_ , stuck there and showed off to the world.

Frank barely remembered anymore, but he had swung his arms around Joey and Julie, didn't have the reach to nab Susie but Joey caught her before she bounced off to get a closer look, and he remembered, faintly, telling them-

_We will never die now._

It was supposed to be some uplifting, positive little thing. Something stupid, funny, ironic even.

It wasn't supposed to be some sort of fucked up premonition.

The burn of eyes on him prickled over his skin, didn't bounce off his mask like it used to, and it mixed bad with the Entities fervor still pounding in his veins and Frank only had to twitch his head up.

The woman stared at him from across the border, eyes hard and narrowed, a tense curve to her back and coiled tight, tight enough to leap away at a moments notice, and for a very brief moment he made eye contact.

Even with the mask, even with the anonymous protection, even with the feverish sickness starting to suck at his limbs and the Entities gnawing pulses trying to tug him forward, through the pinhole spots of his vision and his near swollen shut throat the Legion could feel her _judging_ him.

There was a slight curl to her lip, a twitch to one of her bloodshot eyes, heavy bags dragging underneath and the yellowing of teeth and skin, and it was enough, it was shock enough.

One step back and then he swung around, knife clenched tight in his blood sticky fingers as he raced away, snow and mud and dark disgusting earth as he panted and gasped and ducked his head down, ran.

The thought of that mark in the old lodge pulsed in his head along with his heartbeat, along with the frenzy in his blood, and _god_ did he hate that he was here right now.

He knew he wasn't a favorite eyesore to the Entity, knew he wasn't quite _entertainment_ enough, not like some of the others, but this fucked up place got to his head.

She had been the last one standing, sacrificial blood sprayed, coating his jacket and mask, and now she's crossed the border between what has been and what was now. 

Frank didn't know if he even wanted to leave or not, but that decision wasn't for him to choose.

He broke through the lodges busted doors, skidded on wood and pallets and frayed carpets, bloodstains attesting to the mad rush of earlier, broken hook bypassed and chugging generator spewing smoke, but it was upstairs he was going, upstairs-

Another gong tolled, a roll as that pinch in the back of his brain told him the absence of any other living around him, the trial was over, but like he could give a shit about that. With one last push, charging up the stairs and gasping for air as the frenzy started to fade, as the Fog started to creep in, a misstep and one twist and kick over a broken pallet and the Legion went crashing down, knocked the air out of his own lungs as he hit the ground hard.

He didn't give himself time to recuperate, not enough time as another bell sounded, as if from far away, and instead jerked his head up, clawed at the wood and stabbed the knife deep, splinters pinning through his bloody fingers as he shakily tried to rise, and even as the Fog rolled in and the Entity turned its eye elsewhere Frank got to have a final good look to where he and his friends have been able to leave their mark.

Written bold and savage and _there_ , even if in this false world it was still _there_ , the logo would always be there and him and Joey and Susie and Julie may all not be in Ormond any longer but they sure as fuck _made their mark_.

A last gasp, collapsing down as the world fell into itself and he was tugged backwards into cold chilly Fog, darkness, but even with the Entities dissatisfaction the killer had a shaky smile that scrawled about his face, mirroring his mask.

No longer in Ormond, but the Legion lived forever now.

***

_"Stupid bitch!"_

The pallet just barely missed him, sweeping backwards in dry blood soaked grasses and even drier dirt, the rustle of corn and swinging ropes surrounding them, but before the survivor could fake any satisfaction of blocking him the Legion was already leaping over the pallet, knife held tight and firm and bared snarl grin hidden by the masks blood splattered smile. 

She swung away, tripped up with only a brief flash of surprise that curdled into unspoken rage and frustration, and she was the fastest of them all, the most annoying, sneaking by him whenever he was distracted and unhooking the others from the Entities grasp and Frank was _done_ with it.

Trial's been going on long enough as it was, and the others would be easy to finish off or chase away.

The air didn't stink of charcoal and burned sacrifice any longer, only blood and animal hide, crackling grasses and ash, but there was the faintest wisp in the air, only the slightest of trails, and the Entity may not seem all too satisfied whenever he offered the skulls but it ate his gifts up either way, granting him this singular boon.

And he was ready to pay it up front now.

She dodged his first swipe, stumbled back, and for a moment her face changed and the Legion knew, he _knew_ she caught the same whiff of Entity iron as him and that delightful fear pushed past her stubborn exterior and it shot through him, up his spine and slicing his brain in static and making his already strained breathing turn into gagging chokes, the excitement and bloodlust in the air overwhelming, overstimulating, too stressful. Another swing, this time a feint that she fell for as she tried to duck down-

-his fist swung up, connected to neck and throat and then chin, earning a painful yelp and she dropped like a stone.

Built for running, not fighting.

The irony that he was in the same boat was lost on him as the blood in his ears rushed, raged, and he was already on her, shoving her arms out if the way and taking a knee to the gut and trying to drag the knife closer to her face, closer, blood and grave dirt shifting and smearing onto the victim's clothes and skin as she struggled. 

A sudden heave at his chest, a hand to his throat that pinched and shoved and he was stunned into coughing enough for her to slither out from under him, clawing up the yellow grasses and panting for breath as he hurriedly scrambled up after her in retaliation. His own gagging gasps were strained, a painful ache from where her hand had grabbed him, but she was still winded, couldn't accelerate fast enough as he cut diagonal and rushed her as she tried to curve about the dirt path.

"Will you just fuck off!"

The shout didn't stun him, mind a one track focus with the frenzy biting his heels, but when she swung around in one go, lashing her leg up in an arc that caught him near bullseye, it did make him heave and stumble backwards in a wobble of momentary unbalance.

_"Fuckin' cunt!"_

Voice gargling a wet sound, sucking in thin air as the stress made his arms shake and knees lock, but the pain wasn't half as bad as she had expected for him to get.

She also expected him to clutch himself and drop like a brick, flinching back in a stunned moment herself as he cackled out at her stupidity instead, and with that the Legion flung himself forward and caught her totally off guard.

The back of her head hit the ground, made her struggles weaken as he straddled her and grab a tight hold to her head, thumb uncomfortably close to her bloodshot eyes and knife raised threateningly.

"Wha' the fuck…?!"

Barely an exclamation, the sheer confusion almost delicious as her heartbeat spiked, pulse pounding in his own ears, and hell she's probably done that move before, kicked a fellow in the balls to give her extra time to escape, and now Frank giddily sucked in a wheezed breath as he realized he could just _ask_ the others if she's done it to them yet.

Guess it was the first time she's met someone like him tho, and fuck that felt _fantastic._

_"Expected somethin' a bit different, sweetheart?"_

The Entities hum was rushing with the frenzy, extending in good favor and filling his mouth with heat, saliva and blood, and it dribbled out from under his mask and down against her shirt, her neck and face, made her crinkle up and look disgusted and tainted by pain, just vague enough fear as he pressed the knifes blade flat to her cheek, leaning over. 

The gargled splat of his voice escaped him in huffs, feral noises, and she was already trying to struggle again, already dismissing him, and _fuck that, he had a Mori-_

The knife entered under her ribs, cut deep as he shoved his fist in after it, and the woman struggled and pushed out from under him, left his hand and knife soaked and slippery and all to easy to swing down and hit the back of the knee, hit solid and then dip deep through flesh down the leg, the spill of blood and healthy veins of a runner, to hook to ankle and heel and tug back to him.

She went down with another smack, just barely able to protect her face from the ground again, and when he swung her around he expected the arm up, the wild flail to try and deter the knife.

The Legion relished in the struggle, the fight, the strive to life as he choked on spit and Entity pleasure, choked on the thin air and Fog and the woman's cries of pain, ate it up in substitute for the iron heat that watched with eyeless crows nearby.

Slashing up her arms, lighter wounds before hooking a wrist and slitting down, curve to elbow and causing her to shriek right before he shoved her head backwards, again to hit the ground, crushing his knee swiftly to her belly and feeling the give of hollow trauma and stress, this ol' flesh body of her's has survived way too many Killers by now, time to go-

Another attempt at kicking him, near hitting between his legs _again_ , didn't she already know that wont work in her favor? But he had a tight grip to the blood slicked knife, one hand to her face and shoving her back, making her arch up and scream as he finally dug the blade deep to her collarbone, jerk to her throat and then forcefully rip downwards, hit and scrap and crack through bone along the way.

The air tasted heavy of the sacrificial bonfire, blood and guts and the gold melting skull of blessings, and his frenzy died with her last breath.

The Legion sat there, panting heavy and straddled to the corpse, knife still dug in far and fingers coated in hot blood, sinking deep to his frozen cold fog and old grave dirt. Intestinal organ tracts were wrapped about his hand, wrapped about his knife, soaking his jacket with blood and warmth, and for a shuddery moment he almost felt the urge to deepen the wound, shove his hand, his whole arm far deeper, angle up to under the ribs and straight to the cushioning comfort of heart and lungs.

But with fading frenzy came nausea, and off Frank slithered, slowly, shakily picking himself up to his feet as his own gut twisted and turned, a vile taste on the back of his tongue. The corpse stayed where it was, would stay there the entire trial as warning, threat, fortune telling, but all he had in mind now was how disgusting he felt, how tired, exhausted...

Not even the Entity liked the offered skulls, always choked them down hard. 

A heaved sigh, fighting the dizzy swell of ill and fever, the Legion made his way back, pausing only to break the pallet thoroughly this time.

Trial wasn't over just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh, realizing I'm almost 4 years older than Frank still feels kinda weird...


End file.
